


Happy New Year

by freddi11



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: M/M, Pining, a confession in the middle of the night, friends or more than that - up to you to decide, good guy stuart, if it is one, jimmy being braver in texts than he'd be in person, just a bit of fluff, obligatory Tailenders reference as well, slightly ambiguous as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 03:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17317214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddi11/pseuds/freddi11
Summary: New Year's Eve 2018 in a certain farm cottage in Essex and somewhere in a leafy suburb of Manchester.And a few texts fly between both houses - revealing things that would never be said out loud.





	Happy New Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fruitloopy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruitloopy/gifts).



> inspired by the wonderful fruitloopy and the quite cute tags she left on a certain photoset over on Tumblr on Tuesday.  
> Hope you like it!

7:30, living room in a farm cottage on the outskirts of Leighton Buzzard, Essex:

Ali sets the last bowl down on the dining room table, leans back against the wall, takes a couple of deep breaths and admires his handiwork.

Okay, maybe Italian-ish antipasti, cheese and onion pies, a platter of sausages and assorted oven-baked breads are a bit much food for one dinner.

On the other hand, it’s the first time in four years that he’s able to spend New Year’s Eve at home. And their first New Year’s as a family of five.

That’s worth splurging a bit.

Ali laughs as - for the first time in a while - an image of Jimmy rolling his eyes flashes before him (something Ali will never be able to do quite as masterfully as his best friend). “You know what I meant by that.” he thinks with a fond smile.

What are they up to at this moment, in Manchester?

Ali takes his phone from his back pocket, snaps a photo of the table. Which is absolutely heaving with glasses, colourful plates and napkins, confetti and a paper garland Elsie made in kindergarten.

**_“Enjoy your dinner! What are you having?”_ **

As usual in recent weeks, the reply is almost instant.

A photo of a festive table with white tablecloths, silver napkins and a giant pot sitting proudly in the middle on a black teapot-warmer.

**_“They’re spoiling me :) Ruby and my mum made goulash for everyone.”_ **

**_“Good on her :)”_ **

**_“Are you going to save one of the cheese and onion pies for me?”_ **

**_“Can’t promise that, sorry. You know my dad ;-)”_ **

(I’m going to see you in 10 days.  Even though you don’t know that yet.)

 

Jimmy doesn’t write anything in reply. Simply sends a selfie. He’s pouting.

_Have I ever told you just how cute you look when you pull a face?_

**_“Don’t go all puppy eyes on me, Jim. ;-)”_ **

**_“Please??”_ **

**_“Okay. I’ll try. :-*”_ **

**_“You’re the best. :-* Okay, have a fun evening!”_ **

“Dinner’s ready, folks!” Ali calls down the staircase.

 

_  
_

9:15, another living room in a semi-detached house in a leafy suburb of Manchester:

“Come on, Broady. The story’s more funny than embarrassing. It would fit perfectly. And anyway, the listeners have sent in much worse stuff.”

Jimmy grins at his lanky friend who’s (as much as that’s possible when you’re 6 foot seven) stretched out on the sofa, arms folded across his chest, looking at him with his eyebrows knitted together.

“No. Even if you leave my name out, people will probably figure out it’s me.” Stuart replies and grabs another handful of popcorn.

“Not like you to be bashful. I’m more used to that from Cooky.” Jimmy takes another sip of wine. “And I was able to convince him. Told us about that ODI in India ten years ago.”

“So, why don’t you ask him if he’s got another one for you. When we’re all in Bar… shit.”

Stuart’s face turns a dark pink. He looks as if he wants to disappear in the sofa cushions.

“When we’re what?”

Jimmy drops the remote control he’s been fiddling with. Hopes nobody noticed the short sharp intake of breath he just made. Is glad nobody knows his heart has started to pound.

Sees Daniella rolling her eyes and failing to hide a grin. “Impossible to trust Stu with a secret.”

“Why? What’s up?” Jimmy fixes Broady with one of his favourite stares. The one his new ball-partner can’t fail to understand as _out with it, now, or the new ball’s mine for the next three tests._  Finny once called that look terrifying. And Mark almost panicked the first time he was at the receiving end of it.

And as usual, the stare produces the desired effect.

Broady coughs. Laughs. “He did swear me to secrecy. Sod it. He’s joining us for the Windies tour. He’s doing TMS.”

Jimmy is lost for words. Knows he’s started to beam like a boy on Christmas morning. (And now his heart is definitely racing.)

Hides his self-consciousness by throwing popcorn at Stuart.

“And when exactly were you going to tell ME?” He looks around the room, sees his dad grin. “You were all in on this?” Michael Anderson nods. “He wanted to surprise you at the airport.”

“I’m going to kill him … anyway.” Jimmy pulls himself together. “I’m going to fetch the chocolate tarts.”

Doesn’t react to the laughter breaking out behind him.

Grabs his phone as soon as he’s left the living room.

Smiling from one ear to another, he sends a text.

**_“Alastair Nathan Cook.”_ **

**_“I’m going to chuck Stuart into the Caribbean. ;-)”_ **

**_“No argument from me. Best surprise ever, anyway :)”_ **

**_“Glad to hear :)”_ **

**_“But I thought you didn’t want to go down that road?”_ **

**_“You really need to ask where I got the idea from?”_ **

Jimmy’s brain needs a moment to catch up.

And then he feels a shiver run down his spine.

**_“SWANNY’S GONNA BE THERE TOO????”_ **

**_“Yes. :)”_ **

**_“:) :) :)”_ **

**_“Aren’t they waiting for you at your party? ;-)”_ **

(Are you ever going to stop captaining me?)

Whistling very much off-key (only musically trained people would recognise the melody as “Wonderwall” by Oasis), Jimmy puts his mum’s homemade chocolate tarts on a tray.

Now he’s really completely in party mode.

 

Midnight, garden, Leighton Buzzard:

Fireworks – a dazzling caleidoscope of colours and a cacophony of whizzes, bangs and cheers – light up the night sky over the cottage.

As usual, Ali and his family have wrapped up in warm winter coats, watch the display from the balcony.

Elsie, bouncing up and down on her granddad’s shoulders, her ears covered with noise-cancelling headphones, is awestruck. Doesn’t know which way she should look first.

The adults watch her amusedly. Remember their own excitement at their first ever New Year’s.

“Well, that was fantastic as usual!” Ali’s mum says fifteen minutes later when the noise begins to die down. “Let’s go back inside and warm up. I quite fancy an egg-nog. Anyone else?”

“Excellent idea.” Alice’s dad replies. “I’ll help you.”

Ali has only half paid attention to them.

Looks to the north-west.

Runs a finger over the red and white armband on his left wrist.

_Happy New Year, Jimmy._

_I’m with you. Always._

 

2:30 am, upstairs bedroom, Manchester:

“No, really, don’t wait for me. I’m not tired yet.” Jimmy says and kisses Daniella goodnight. “I’ll even clean up tomorrow.” “Thanks.” she yawns. “Have fun! But please keep the noise down.” “Will do.”

Smiling, Jimmy closes the bedroom door and finds Stuart already waiting for him. As usual.

“Ready?”

“Yep. Gemma should be almost done with the set up.” Stuart replies and hands Jimmy another glass of whisky. “Cheers.” (Jimmy stops himself from replying “go well” just in time.)

They clink glasses, take a sip, amble back to the living room.

“When did we last play SingStar?” Jimmy asks the hallway.

“Must have been for Joe’s 25th birthday. Remember that duet he sang with Jos?” Stuart laughs.

“Oh yeah, what was it? That song out of what’s the musical… Dance of the Vampires.”

“I know what you mean but I can’t remember the title. Anyway, it was hilarious.”

“And ever so slightly romantic.” Jimmy adds with a grin.

(Keeps the memory he’s just thought of to himself. That would raise more questions than he currently wants to answer. Least of all after several glasses of… stuff.)

“There you are.” Gemma waves at them. “Sean said he wants to go first. Gives you more time to think of a good song. But Jim?” “Huh?” “No Oasis tonight. Please.”

 “She’s still scarred by the video I showed her.” Stuart explains and pats Sean on the back. “Go well!”

Sean grabs the microphone, strikes a pose. The song begins to play.

“I was left … to my own devices….”

Jimmy freezes. His eyes start to well up. “Too soon.” he whispers. “Much too soon.”

Gets up and leaves the room.

“Shit.” Stuart says. “Mind changing the song, Sean? That one’s a bit difficult for Jimmy. For reasons I can’t explain right now. ““Sure.” Sean looks a bit puzzled but switches the menu back on.

Stuart wants to look for Jimmy but decides against it. Knows all too well that that’s one of the moments in which he really needs to be on his own. Because everything Stuart wants to – or could say – would only make it much worse.

 

Jimmy leans against the back door. Takes a couple of deep breaths, tries to steady himself.

_Sean can’t have known. But… why does that song still do it for me? It’s January. I haven’t listened to it in several weeks. And I should be over it by now. I really should._

_This is harder than I thought._

He wipes his eyes, looks for his phone. Knows he shouldn’t. But really needs to hear from him right now. If he’s still up.

Tries several different approaches but eventually (embarrassingly) settles for a “ ** _< 3”_** _._

His phone buzzes only two minutes later. **_“? :)”_**

Time to text what he’d never bring himself to say out loud. What he can only do now, in the middle of the night, in the safety of his own house.

**_“Ali? Honestly don’t know what I’dhave done without u these past 13 years. Your r brilliant. Amazing. Best friend I ever had. Miss you more than youdthinkpossible. Don’t ever change... Love you. Jim.”_ **

**_“Jimmy?”_ **

**_“Yeah?”_ **

**_“Large glass of WATER and then off to bed with you.”_ **

Jimmy laughs. He’s right. He’s always right.

 

10 am, master bedroom, Leighton Buzzard:

Ali wakes up from quite a confusing dream. Only vaguely recalls Stuart in a neon yellow bathing short. Yawns and stretches. Everyone else seems to be downstairs for breakfast.

Takes a look out of the window to find their garden and fields covered in a soft, glittering white blanket.

A beautiful New Years’ morning. With his favourite kind of weather.

His phone buzzes.

He doesn’t need to guess who just texted. Opens the message and reads: **_“Happy new year, you idiot.”_**

Ali laughs. Jimmy’s up, definitely severely hungover (at least he maintains hangovers become excruciating once you pass 35) and probably remembered what he wrote last night. And is trying to save face. Again.

(If he only knew that that slightly misspelled (and probably more sincere than Jimmy’d ever admit out loud) text had Ali staring at the ceiling for almost twenty minutes. Smiling. And feeling a weird buzz somewhere deep inside.)

**_“And to you :) How’s the head?”_ **

**_“Dead. Or dying. I am NEVER drinking again.”_ **

**_“Get an espresso. And go for a run. That should help.”_ **

**_“Ha. Ha. As if I’m moving this morning.”_ **

Ali can just imagine Jimmy rolling his eyes.

Smiles.

And writes something else – something he hasn’t said out loud for a while but is still as true as the first time he said it, all those years ago in Trent Bridge:

**_“Love you too, Jimmy. :)”_ **

**Author's Note:**

> I know there's no way Jimmy doesn't know Ali will be joining TMS in the West Indies. Just thought it would be fun if he didn't.


End file.
